Metamorphosis
by Riddl3MeThis
Summary: There are some moments in his life that Gale knows will never leave him. A collection of short ficlets centered around these moments, showing what exactly changed the handsome boy from the woods into a hardened soldier.
1. Chapter 1

**The look on his mother's face when Mayor Undersee presented him with the cold circle of metal that was supposed to make up for the fact that he was now forced into being the man of the house at the age of thirteen.**

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

It's the only thing he can do to keep the tears from coming again.

_Think of happy things, like the color of the sky when the sun rises._

Mayor Undersee steps up onstage and prepares to speak to the small crowd of people gathered in the main chamber of the Justice Building. Some are crying, like his mother. Others are biting their lips and twisting handkerchiefs to keep from doing so. One women is clutching a young boy, presumably her son, so tightly that Gale's afraid she'll cut off the circulation to his arm. And then there's the woman in the corner, absently braiding her daughters hair while she stares at the stage with eyes as blank as slates.

"We have all been summoned here today to honor the fallen," Mayor Undersee announces in a booming voice.

_Vick laughing and laughing when Rory tickles his stomach._

"What happened in section 17 of the Mines was undoubtedly a great tragedy, but not nearly as great as it could have been."

_The satisfied feeling he had the day that he first discovered a squirrel had been caught in his snare._

"The miners, your fathers and brothers, were able to call out a warning to a crew working nearby, and thanks to that quick shout, all of _that_ crew were able to make it home that day." Mayor Undersee pauses, as if he's waiting for a response, maybe even applause, but the people of this audience are too ruined to even throw a dirty look at the miners who lived, all of whom had been, for some reason Gale can not fathom, summoned to the Building as well and were standing together at the very back of the room, looking as confused as everyone else feels about why exactly they were invited to this.

Gale feels hatred boil up inside of him. Why should those men be able to go home and hug their children when his father can no longer do so? They were all in the same mine together. So why was his father incinerated while these men were free to run away?

Mayor Undersee continues with his speech, but Gale doesn't pay attention anymore.

_Think of the baby, the baby in your mother's stomach right now. Your new brother or sister. The one who'll never have to know this horrible feeling of loss, who'll never even know that there was anything to lose._

One of the miners catches his eye, and Gale tries to glare at him. But he can't.

This man, boy, really, can't be more than 19 years old, though he looks younger. He didn't force Gale's father down into those mines. He didn't mean to abandon him there, sealing his fate to be death by fire. This boy was just doing what he had to. Maybe he had a family who needed to be fed, too. Maybe that's why he was down in the mines in the first place.

Unfortunately, Gale doesn't have the same options as this boy.

_The baby, who's going to need formula, and baby food, and clothes and blankets and a crib and -_

How in the hell are they going to survive? Winter is approaching fast, and right now there aren't many people looking to hire a fourteen year old boy whose only claim to worthwhile skills is a knack for catching wild animals.

_And that's not even getting to Rory and Vick, both of whom are growing boys and are going to need proper food to stay that way._

Six years. He's six years too young for the mines. But Gale's not really sure that this is a bad thing. He doubts that he could face the deep abyss everyday, knowing that it was and forever would be his father's final resting place.

_His mother. What will he do about his mother, when the time comes for her to give birth? He knows the District Doctor is not an option. The town worker, who's only patients are Peacekeepers. He could never afford something like that. But he's a thirteen year old boy who doesn't know a thing about babies, except how they're made, and even that he's not all too clear on._

"We present these medals of honor to your family in memory of the ones you lost," Mayor Undersee's speech is now finished, and he begins to place medals around the necks of the other children on stage. They're all Seam kids, every last one. Surprisingly, Gale finds a sense of comfort in this. At least he's not the only one suffering like this.

_There's always tesserae. His father always forbid him from taking out any, but in this situation he'd probably reconsider. There's always the woods, too. But even with tesserae and wild animals, how will they get by?_

Gale doesn't look at the mayor when the medal is placed around his neck. Instead, he finds his mother's face out in the crowd. Meets her eyes, sees the tears leaking from them and the determined look they have in them and he knows.

_They'll get by because they have to._


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, since I didn't really explain before, I figured I'd give it a try. Watch out, because their may be slight Mockingjay spoilers in these next two paragraphs. Small ones, but still if you don't want to know anything just skip them both. After reading Mockingjay, I was content with the job SC had done. I really had loved the way she wrapped it up. But as is true with anything, people disagreed with my opinion, which was perfectly fine. But a lot of people were upset with how Gale's character had been portrayed. Now, I (being a Peeta fan ;) ) didn't really pay much attention to Gale throughout MJ. I mean, I did, but I was paying a bit more attention to a certain blonde... Now when I heard that people were calling him a "monster" I was totally confused. So I went and reread it. And this is what I found:**

Yes, Gale made some bad decisions in Mockingjay. But that doesn't make him a bad person. It makes him a normal human being who was thrown into horrible circumstances and given way too much responsibility when he was far too young. I think that there are a lot of events leading up to his decisions in MJ, so here they are.

So, no more MJ spoilers. Actually, most of these little ficlets won't spoil Mockingjay at all, and if they do I'll let you know beforehand in a little message like this :) Also, thank you to junbug24, xXxSerenaxXx, Flyza, and kittiesrock90210 for the reviews. Reviews make me smile :) Now, on with the story! No MJ spoilers in this chapter if I didn't mention that already...

* * *

**The deep blue color of the dress Katniss, looking beautiful and determined, wore on the Reaping Day that would irrevocably change both their lives.**

"Primrose Everdeen!"

Gale's stomach drops. He feels as though it's Vick, or Rory, or Posy making their way determinedly up towards the stage. But it's not.

It's Prim.

But it's because of this feeling that he knows what's coming next, knows what she's going to say before her scream even leaves her mouth.

"Prim!"

It's not fair.

"Prim!"

They've already taken so much from him. They can't take her too. He won't let them.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

He doesn't even realize that he's moving towards her until he's right in front of her, looking into her eyes, her frightened eyes, which is odd because Katniss isn't the scared one of their duo. She's the one who laughs in the face of danger, who never even comes close to crying, who takes a situation and just deals with it without even considering what it might mean for her.

He wants to hold her, cling to her as Prim is doing. He wants to tell her the truth about how he feels about her. He wants to tell her that the sound of her laugh can make him forget about everything, if only for a little while. That when she smiles, he feels as though the sun is shining, even when it's the dead of winter and -10 degrees outside. That the time he spends with her, out in the woods, is the only time he ever feels whole again.

But there isn't time for all of that, so instead he slides Prim's hands into his own and says, "Up you go, Catnip,"

It's all he can do to stand there, holding on to Prim as she struggles, trying to get back to her sister. At that moment, he decides what he's going to do next. He's going to volunteer. No matter who the other tribute is, he's going to replace him. Because he can't let her go in alone. They're Gale and Catnip, the frightened, fatherless children of the woods. There is hardly ever a free moment where one can be found without the other, and this day isn't going to change that.

But then Prim is looking up at him and saying something. He forces himself to tune out the idiot escort blabbering up on stage, and focus on the crying girl in front of him.

"You can't help her,"

The words hit him like a punch. Little Prim who, like all of them, has seen far too much in her short life, is right. He can't help Katniss, now. Not with his mother and Vick, and Rory, and Posy, and Prim, and Mrs. Everdeen. He can't just abandon all those people and be able to live with himself after. District Twelve hasn't had a victor in 24 years. The odds would not be in his or Katniss's favor.

He cracks his knuckles in frustration.

It isn't fair.

"Peeta Mellark!"

This was not the way it was supposed to go. He was supposed to protect them.

All of them.

Hatred fills him like he's never felt before, and he focusses it on the bubbly woman with the pink hair who's smiling excitedly at the baker's son, the second child condemned to death for the day.

It isn't fair.

But Gale has come to realize that few things in his life are.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the late update! I've been sooooo much busier than I thought I'd be! Anyway, this chapter's wayyy longer to make up for the wait :)**

**Thank you to the reviewers! I would post your names, but I'm in a rush here, so I'll do it next time. *Mockingjay spoilers in this chapter***

**This is just how I saw their rescue mission playing out. Obviously, in my mind, they downplayed it when they told Katniss about it. But in MJ they downplayed a lot originally with her, so I think it still fits. Let me know if you disagree, though!**

**

* * *

The eerie sense of déjà vu he feels while watching the Prison collapse on itself, in a final burst of fire and screams.**

They are all silent as they approach the door, expecting the worst.

It's been too easy so far, and they all know it. Gale was expecting mutts, booby-traps, and thousands of Peacekeepers to be guarding the building where Panem's most high-profile "criminals" are being held, but so far they've only had one brief shoot-out with the guards at the entrance. Right now, he's hoping that Beetee's plan was really just that good, an option that's a bit overly-optimistic in his opinion but not impossible. He's talked to Beetee enough to know that the man's an absolute genius. But, given that his last big plan was what got them all into this mess, Gale has decided to remain wary.

"Stand down," Boggs orders sharply, and everyone stops moving. Gale watches as their mission commander cautiously approaches the door with the key card they stole off the first guard in hand.

_This is where it's going to happen_ Gale decides. _This is where something's going to go wrong._

But nothing does. Boggs slides the key card into the slot in the door, and it springs open to reveal a long corridor with passages leading to the left and right.

Everyone turns to look at Saber, who, at the moment, is the one being entrusted with giving the directions. "The left should lead us to cell-block 8. That's where Peeta and Johanna are presumably being held, and Enobaria if they've kept her locked up. The right will take us to all the other cell-blocks, where Annie Cresta should be," he announces.

"Right. We're splitting up into the teams we made earlier. Jackson, your team will go right, my team will go left," Boggs says.

Gale dutifully follows Jackson to the right. They fly down the corridor, guns clutched tightly in their hands, until they reach another metal door. Unfortunately, the only key card they had is with Boggs. This was evidently considered, too, because Jackson seems to know exactly where to shoot the control panel to make the door open.

The moment it does, a loud alarm starts to blare. This was evidently anticipated also, because Jackson merely pulls a small sheet of paper out of her pocket. It reads: **Search all the cells until you find Cresta. When you do, blow your whistle.**

So that's what the whistle was for. He'd asked Boggs about it when they'd first been passed out, but had only gotten a vague "in case I need to hear you" in response. Gale checks his pockets briefly to make sure the whistle is still there, and then follows the others into the cell block.

What hits him first is the smell. The awful stench of blood and waste and filth all mixed together would be enough to make him gag, but there's another odor mixing with the foul ones. It smells like flowers, almost as if someone had tried to cover up the disgusting smell with an equally disgusting perfume. What hits him next are the people. People in the cell to his left. People in the cell directly ahead. Caged like animals, and not looking that much better. And all yelling. Yelling for him, Jackson, and the others to help them, free them. It's all he can do to force himself to at least pretend to look around for Annie.

But as his eyes scan the crowds of prisoners, reaching through the bars on their cells, he finds that he can't move. He's glued to the floor as he looks from one emaciated face to the next, picking out certain details from each one. The frightened eyes of the boy, who can hardly be more than seven. The long scar running down the young red-headed woman's face. The fact that the old crippled man can hardly even drag himself over to the edge of the cell, yet still finds the energy to rasp out two words over and over again.

_Help me._

The sharp trill of a whistle, cutting through both the alarm and the cries of the prisoners, snaps him back to his senses, and Gale finds that he can walk again. Forcing himself to ignore the people around him, he walks with purpose towards the sound of the whistle. Jackson and some others are gathered around what appears to be a cage for a medium sized animal. Only, the thing inside isn't an animal, or medium sized. It's an emaciated-looking Annie Cresta.

Gale barely has time to suck in his breath before Jackson is shooting the lock off the cage, and pulling Annie out.

"Let's go!" her voice is barely audible above the harsh alarm, "Back to the rendezvous point!"

A horrible sense of dread at what Jackson's suggesting fills Gale, and he grabs her arm. "We can't leave all these people!"

But he's too quite, or maybe she just doesn't want to hear what he has to say, because all Jackson does is pull on his arm as she turns to leave again. Gale shrugs off her grasp, and takes a step towards the nearest cell.

"No!"

This time he hears Jackson's voice, loud and clear, because someone has stopped the alarm. The silence doesn't last for long, though, because now the prisoners are yelling again, begging for help.

"We can't stay! There's no conceivable way that we can get them all out of here alive!"

He knows she's right. No way they can get them _all_ out. "Why not just children, then?" he asks, thinking of the boy he noticed when he first walked in.

"No! We open the cell doors, and it'll all just be chaos! There's no way we'll make it out alive!"

Again, she's right. But Gale's never been one to just roll over and play dead.

"Then leave me with them! I can give you guys time to get out and then-"

"HAWTHORNE!" Jackson's voice reaches a screech, "You are following orders and coming back with us!" She grabs his shoulders, now, shoving her face right in his, "We risked our lives getting one of the Mockingjay's boys back. I'm not going to let anyone die going back for another who was too stupid to get out while he could."

The Mockingjay's boy. That's what he is. Probably all he'll ever be. Jackson's words remind him of something, though. The _other_ boy. Peeta. The reason he came on this mess of a rescue mission in the first place.

It takes most of his willpower not to lower his head in defeat when he mutters "Alright," and follows Jackson out of the room, avoiding the old man's eyes and leaving the cacophony of misery behind him.

They've just made it to the corridor when the first bomb hits.

Jackson, prepared for this sort of thing, grabs his shoulders and throws him to the floor. Remembering what they taught him in training, Gale's hands immediately fly up to cover his head. Thankfully, though, there is no need. The bomb went off too far behind them for any debris to get near them. They were lucky.

He can not say the same for the prisoners they left behind.

The screams grow louder than before, now out of pain rather than sorrow. Gale slowly picks himself off the ground and turns to look back, but all he can see is fire. His reaction is not the common instinct to run away, but rather to run towards the fire and help those who they didn't save, but, once again, Jackson stops him.

Not even bothering to list off all the reasons why he can't go back, she just pulls him along behind her.

"NO! WE CAN'T!" Gale screams at her, but his protests are futile, and Jackson is much stronger than she looks. Another bomb goes off behind them just as they reach the others, but this time no one hits the floor.

"They're cameras should still be down, which means they'll just keep hitting the prison randomly until it goes down!" Boggs' voice, urgent and commanding, reaches his ears, but Gale doesn't turn to look at him. "We're getting out, now!"

He doesn't fight with Jackson this time. Knows there's nothing he can do. Just peers around at the others, looking for the reason he came, and barely makes out the shape of the bald person clutched in Saber's arms before the next bomb is dropped.

This one hits a bit too close for comfort, and they are all thrown into the air. Gale hits the ground hard and all the air leaves his lungs in a gasp. An unsettling _crunch_ reaches his ears and he feels a sharp pain in his left thumb as it hits the floor at an odd angle. Black spots pop up in front of his eyes, but he knows how to deal with this type of situation, actually finds a sense of comfort in the pain and chaos, so he forces himself to stand up.

"We need to get out now!" he cries over the distant screams and sound of an even more distant explosion. It takes a bit longer than he would have liked, but they're all up and moving soon enough, back out the way they came.

The explosions are becoming more frequent, now, and they're all a bit worse for the wear by the time they reach the aircraft dock. Used mostly for the guards to get to and from work, the dock is completely empty, now, except for a solitary vehicle. Theirs.

The mad dash to reach it is cut short by another explosion. This one is bad, much too close, and much too big. It catches him off guard. Gale was actually thinking that they'd make it out of here, that this half-assed suicide mission would actually somewhat succeed. But the Capitol is too cruel to let even that happen.

He is flung into the air, again, and back through the door they just came through. He feels the chunk of metal, ripped fresh from the wall by the bomb, slide into one end of his shoulder and out the other. Feels it in its' full, painful, glory, and cries out.

Mercifully the black spots are too many this time to stay conscious.

Blurry images flash by.

The sky, bright orange and burning above him.

Boggs, leaning in towards his face.

The gleaming hull of the hovercraft, somehow still intact after that last brutal wave.

Then the images become less blurry and more sharp.

"Go! Go!" Boggs, again, shouting at someone Gale can't see. "No, you stay down," Boggs tells him, but he doesn't listen.

He sits up a few inches before the pain in his shoulder makes him gasp and lay back down. Panting, he regains his bearings. They're in the hovercraft. There's Boggs, kneeling next to him. And Caleb over to the left. And Aurelie right next to him. And Annie Cresta leaning against her. And...

p>"Well, at least it'll get a lot of sponsors," Peeta, laying on the floor by Annie, says, in a voice that's much harsher than Gale remembers it being. Then he begins to laugh softly to himself, but no one else joins in.

Gale studies the boy for a moment, taking in the hollowed cheeks and crazed eyes, before turning his gaze in the direction Peeta's looking..

Through the floor-to-ceiling window on the hovercraft's door, he sees what must be the prison, in the distance. And Peeta's right.

It's dazzling.

Far more dazzling than he remembers District 12 being.

The prison is glowing.

It was an impressive building before, but now with the added fire it's positively breathtaking.

Even with the giant holes and cracks in the previously-smooth metal, the sight of the dome captivates everyone. The fire lashes out from every crevice in long tendrils, seemingly turning the reflective, gray metal a bright orangeish color. Black smoke billows off the top in large plumes that cover the star-filled sky, making it completely black.

A faint cracking noise makes its way to the hovercraft, and Gale cringes despite the pain it causes his shoulder. He knows what's coming. It was the same way with any of the big buildings in District 12. The Mayor's house is the only one he was up close for, though, and he remembers the noises perfectly before it collapsed. But watching the prison collapse isn't like watching District 12 collapse. He feels...differently about it.

For twelve, there was a sense of helplessness and loss and sorrow and pain so great that filled him when he watched it burn to the ground that he thought he would die right along with the citizens he hadn't been able to save. With the prison, Gale only feels regret. Regret that he couldn't help the prisoners, couldn't stop the Capitol, couldn't fix save everyone _just this once._.

But there is no sense of loss. He didn't know those people in the prison, didn't grow up with them. And while it was horrible and unjust and _inhumane_ what was done to them, he knows there's nothing he can do about it.

Gale wonders if this is how the citizens of the Capitol felt while watching the very first Hunger Games.

Somehow, though, as a final wave of bombs rain down on the already-demolished prison, he doubts it. 


	4. Chapter 4

**If you have a particular moment in the series that you'd like to see from Gale's point of view, please let me know (like junbug24 :) ) I have the ones set in my mind (and written down, because otherwise I'd forget) that I'm definitely going to do, and there are about twelve. But I'm for sure up for doing more. Alright, that's it for the author message that probably about two people read haha. Now to the story. No MJ spoilers in this chapter! Oh! And a big thanks to Flyza, Lostliveson4eva, FoalyWinsForever, catdammerj, and junbug24 for the reviews!**

* * *

**The way the Capitol interviewer was able to turn what should have been a simple two minute interview into what seemed like eternity.**

"So, Gale, what does it feel like being the cousin of the girl who's enchanted the entire Capitol?"

Gale bristles in his seat. He was informed of this whole 'cousins' plan less than five minutes ago and is still struggling to comprehend exactly how it's going to help Katniss in the long run. His mother assured him several times that it wasn't really that big of a deal, but he disagrees. Lying to the whole country of Panem about one of the few people in his life that truly matters is a very big deal in his mind. Especially when said person is going to die... But Gale forces that thought out of his head the instant it enters.

"I feel proud to be related to the soon-to-be-winner of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games," he tries to say with as much conviction as he can.

The interviewer, who's name he forgot the moment he was told, notices. "Oooh, confident, aren't we?" she shoots him a wink, and he frowns. "I don't see why I shouldn't be. Katniss has been doing outstanding,"

And she has. But she soon won't be. The little girl from District 11 that she made an alliance with was caught by a snare the Careers set, and Gale knows it's only a matter of time before they check on that particular trap. And last he saw, Katniss didn't seem to be in any shape to go help her ally.

The interviewer nods in response, "Yes, undoubtedly she's done exceptional until now. Though not without help..." A long pause hangs over them as Gale considers how to reply. She's obviously referring to Peeta Mellark, who was lying in the grass on the verge of death last Gale saw of him. But he's not willing to go there this early in the interview.

"Yes, she's had a lot of very generous and well-earned sponsors."

And the interviewer isn't willing to let the most interesting storyline of this year's Games go quite so easily.

"Yes, the people of the Capitol have been good to Ms. Everdeen. But, of course, she also has her fellow District tribute to thank," she uses this as a nice segue into the territory Gale was attempting to avoid, "Tell me, Gale, did you ever expect Peeta Mellark's feelings for your cousin were quite so strong?"

He's not sure what makes him more angry. The idea that Peeta actually has real feelings for Katniss or the whole cousins thing again. In either case, he only manages a curt "no."

"You must have seen them talking sometimes in school, though. Did you notice anything different about their relationship, compared to her other friendships?"

"No," Gale says quickly to keep from laughing. Clearly the other people this woman interviewed haven't given her a clear picture of Katniss if she thinks she has enough friendships to compare one to another. Or if she thinks Katniss and Peeta ever talked. "But I never saw them at school. I'm two years ahead," he adds, realizing that completely dispelling their "star-crossed lovers" story won't help either of them with sponsors. And if anyone in the games needed sponsors right now, it was those two.

The interviewer keeps at it, though, and they fall into a pattern. She'll ask a question about Katniss and Peeta (if she made frequent trips to the bakery, if their parents were close friends from all being in the same year at school, if he ever hung out with the two of them on the weekends, and on and on and on), and he'll give her a vague answer that makes it sound like he honestly had no interest in Katniss' personal life, which is probably good for the whole cousins thing, anyway. Eventually she moves on and asks about other things. Prim, for starters, moving on to her mother, and briefly her father. This is all easy enough for him, as Katniss said most of the important stuff about Prim in her own interview. He just repeats how she loves Prim and her mother and would do anything to ensure their survival. But then the interviewer asks a tricky one.

"What, exactly, is your cousin like?"

Gale knows his response to this question could either gain sponsors for Katniss or loose them. Could help or hinder her. Could be the difference between her coming home in a train or in a box.

But what should he say?

_She can hear a squirrel coming from fifty yards away. She goes to bed early so that she can be perfectly alert the next day, even if the next day isn't a hunting day. She hates the mines even more than I do. When it snows, she tries to catch and study each individual snowflake before it melts because Greasy Sae told us that no two snowflakes are alike. She didn't feel fully comfortable with telling me her true feelings an opinions for months after we started hunting together, and sometimes still doesn't. She's a better shot than I am. Her hair gets curly when it rains. When she's angry with you, she won't let it go until you've apologized, even if she was wrong in the first place. I think I might love her._

"She's strong, and she'll never give up. Mark my words, By the end of the week Panem will have its new victor, and her name will be Katniss Everdeen." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh boy, this update is so overdue I don't even know. Things came up, and I went through a bit of writers block, but here it is, and a bit longer, too! Enjoy! And sorry about the long wait and thanks to all those who reviewed that I didn't thank yet! Sorry, again!**

That last hour had been torturous. The editors of the Games intercut footage of Katniss and Finnick being attacked by the screaming Jabber Jays with footage of Brutus and Enobaria watching from the nearby jungle, so Gale hadn't heard the whole thing. But he'd gotten the gist of it. He'd heard the screams of Prim and her mother mixed along with those of Vick and himself, and even though he knew they weren't real, knew that he'd never screamed like that in his life, it was still frightening.

Posy had curled up in his arms close to half an hour ago and was still shaking, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

And just as with Katniss, he couldn't say anything to comfort her. He couldn't even open his mouth, for fear that if he did the screams would actually come out.

The saving grace of all this had been Peeta and Beetee, for explaining to her and the rest of Panem that it hadn't been real.

He watches, gritting his teeth as Peeta and Katniss sit up together. He's holding her close, still trying to calm her from earlier. Gale can't help but feel jealous. He knows it's ridiculous, that Peeta could die at any moment, while he is safe at home in the Districts, but at least Peeta is doing _something_.

Gale has never felt so utterly useless in his life. Can't help Posy, can't help Catnip. Can't help anyone. At least, not while he's still here, in District 12.

Gale abruptly gets to his feet, accidentally displacing Posy from his lap. He turns to her, but finds that he can't even bring himself to look her in the eye, much less apologize. So he walks out.

_What does it matter, anyway? It's just one more thing he can't do._

The sun has just set outside, and a light chill has settled over the District. Gale doesn't turn back in for a jacket, though. Just walks calmly away from his house.

Along with the sense of uselessness, comes a feeling that he's grown accustomed to by now.

Anger. It grows inside of him like a never-ending fire. Always there, sometimes a bit less prominent, it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing.

What _exactly_ he's angry at, though, is a bit more tricky.

The Capitol, of course, is the most obvious answer. This is all their fault. For inventing the Hunger Games and taking her away in the first place. Then, forcing her (or maybe not forcing her, though that thought is almost too painful for him to bear) into staying with the baker's son. Keeping her at an arms length from him even when she had beaten the odds. And now taking her back again.

There's plenty of other things in his life that he can blame the Capitol for, too. The hungry look in his siblings' eyes, the suffocating darkness of the mines he faces every day, the dozens of scars that will never fade from his back. Hell, if he sat there for long enough, he could probably find a way to connect every bad thing that's happened in his life back to the Capitol. It wouldn't even be that difficult.

But Gale is angry at other things, too. Peeta Mellark, for one, for taking the girl Gale loved away from him and then claiming he felt the same way. Also, for making it so damn difficult to stay mad at him. Haymitch Abernathy for probably being up to his eyes in wine right now, if the random bread he kept sending them was any indication. The new Head Peacekeeper for coming by their house every few hours to personally make sure that they were watching this years games in full. And especially whatever sick, twisted Gamemaker had invented this arena.

But mostly Gale just thinks he's angry with himself. Because of the uselessness. Because he couldn't come through for her when it had really counted, when they'd had a chance at escaping.

"Fine night for a walk, eh?"

Gale cringes as he recognizes the voice. Peacekeeper Jenks, formerly a regular at the Hob who always paid a little more than he had to for squirrel, currently second-in-command to their new, sadistic Head.

"Not nearly as fine as I'd hoped," Gale snaps in reply then adds, reasonably, "But, it could be worse."

"Yes, it certainly could be," Jenks replies far too jovially for Gale's liking, "You could be up in the stocks."

The punishment for not watching the Games. Gale pauses, considering if the fact that they were almost-friendly at one point will keep Jenks from following the law.

"Yes," he begins slowly, "Or I could be completely wasted despite the fact that I have to be up at the crack of dawn, tomorrow."

The scent of wine on Jenks' breath had given him away.

Instead of getting angry, Jenks lets out an uproarious laugh and slaps him on the back, "Or you could be out in the woods, stuck there, waiting for the break in the power that will never come."

"Or I could have to answer to an imbecile that doesn't even know my name."

This just makes Jenks laugh harder, "Or you could be tied to the whipping post with your back ripped half to hell."

This memory is too recent, "Or I could be the second most hated man in a District that doesn't would kill me in a heartbeat if they had the chance."

Though the smile remains on his face, it no longer reaches Jenks' eyes, and the merriment is gone from his voice as he whispers, "Or you could be at home, watching your girlfriend throw herself at the baker's son."

The words hang between them, and though they're standing merely feet away, they are suddenly worlds apart. Jenks, thinking whether or not arresting him is worth the trouble. Gale, wondering whether or not what he said was true.

Then they are back.

"Night, Jenks," Gale spits out.

"Evening, Hawthorne," Jenks mumbles, and they go their separate ways. Gale, shivering in his threadbare shirt and flimsy pants, scurrying away through the cover of shadows, eager not to get caught again. And Jenks, trying to stand proud in his Peacekeeper's uniform, but stumbling along and tripping over rocks that aren't even there.

Because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter.


	6. Chapter 6

**This is part one of two chapters, both dealing with the same event; the whipping. Special shout outs to Steff Malfoy1 (I did write it =] ) for the suggestion to write this and to catdammerj for being awesome :) Also thanks to EvalynnRose, ColorTheSky, SecondSunrise, and Lostliveson4eva (whose name I haven't commented on yet, but now must say that yes it most certainly does!) for their reviews. Now read on and prosper, or something like that. AND, if anybody reading this read the first, and currently only, chapter of my fic 'Like a Rose,' and is wondering why I never updated it, it's because I decided that it will be the sequel to this story. So, yeah. Updates on that will happen, just far far far in the future.**

* * *

_8 is in rebellion. 8 is in rebellion. 8 is in rebellion._

He plays the words over and over in his head as he marches through the forest. Repeats it again and again, sets it to a beat, like a heartbeat. A heartbeat giving him life again, for the first time in too long.

Rebellion.

He says it aloud and likes the way it sounds in his voice. Likes the way the 'r' rolls of his tongue, likes the way the double-'l's stretch the word out.

He's never really considered himself to be particularly rebellious.

But now he could envision it, could envision planning an uprising. He could see himself in front of crowds of people, saying the things he's said for years, only this time to several pairs of ears instead of just one. He thinks he could get the people in 12 angry enough to take to the streets. It wouldn't even be that hard. They were the most impoverished district from which far too many kids had died over the years. Four victors. And two from the same year. Measly even when compared to Districts 7, 10, or 11.

He pauses for a minute, considering for the first time the biggest negative that a rebellion would cause.

Death.

Death of those that he loves, of those he hates, of innocent children, of teachers from school. Of the good-hearted drunkards in the Hob. Of the rich merchants and the poor Seam dwellers. Of his friends from the mines. Of his family and friends...

Gale's not sure he could deal with all that blood on his hands.

Ducking under the hole in the fence, he sighs. Life in the districts is too difficult, unfair, and short. More reasons for rebelling.

_If we're all going to die anyway, what's it matter if it happens sooner than later?_

He walks up to Cray's door trying to figure out the answer.

His thinking is cut short when the door opens.

The man before him is not Cray. That much is clear within seconds. This man is much younger than Cray and evidently much stronger. His neck is thick, his shoulders broad, and his biceps bulging. His eyes are gray, though not a silvery-gray like Gale's, but a dark, steely gray.

Gale draws back, puts on a smirk and snarks, "My, Mr. Cray. You sure have been eating well,"

The man doesn't react at all, just stares at him. Gale isn't sure what to do. Whether he should try to hide the hunting bag slung over his shoulder or run or what. So he stands there, waiting for the mystery man to make the first move.

"What's in that bag?" the man asks finally, long after the time it is socially acceptable to stare at a person for had run out. Knowing he's been discovered, though not yet caught, Gale hands it over without protest. The man pulls out the turkey inside and looks up at him again.

"It was hopping around inside the fence," he responds to the judging glare cooly.

"Then why's it in your bag?"

"I killed it,"

The man laughs, "Clearly. Are you aware that's a direct violation of District code?"

Gale draws himself up to his full height and finds that he's still a few inches shorter than this man. "You mean the code that's never been enforced?"

The second the last word leaves his mouth he realizes this was the wrong thing to say. The man's eyes flash for a second and his eyebrows angle down sharply. The effect is menacing. "Well, as I'm sure you can tell, that's about to change."

"The turkey attacked me. I killed it in self defense."

"That doesn't matter."

This brings forth a laugh from Gale, "So, when innocent citizens are attacked by wild animals, we're expected to do nothing in self defense?"

"Wild animals should not be able to get through the electric fence without help from the aforementioned 'innocent' citizens!" The man is furious, now. Gale can see that he made a mistake, took it too far.

"Look, sir, the fence doesn't work. We're lucky if we get electricity a few hours every week-"

"Another thing that is about to change," the man interrupts, "Let me lay this out for you, Mr. Hawthorne. Wild turkeys like this one live at least 1,000 yards into the woods. I've sent out scouts to prove this in the last month. Now, I could send them out again, to do a more thorough sweep for something else, for other certain illegal items."

Gale isn't sure what chills him more; the fact that this man knows his name without having been told, or the fact that he's figured him out so absolutely in a matter of minutes.

A cruel smile slowly rises on the man's face, "Or, you could admit your guilt and accept your punishment."

It's not a choice, really. The former brings certain death, for him and possibly Katniss, and the latter brings maybe death, maybe...well, he's not really sure what type of punishment a hunting infraction entails.

"All right. I killed the turkey."

The man's smile grows a bit wider, "Good, good. Follow me Mr. Hawthorne."

"It's not really fair that you know my name, but I have no idea what to call you," Gale says, angry in his defeat.

"You can call me Head Peacekeeper Thread if you live long enough to meet me again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Uhmm, god, I don't even know what to say other than SORRY! This update is massively overdue, and I hope that you'll forgive me...eventually! For those of you wondering, I promise I do intend to finish this story (if you can call it that? It's more a collection, I think). It is going to be near 15 chapters long and then will possibly be followed by a sequel, or other collections like it but of different character's moments.**

**But, for now, enjoy this one! This takes place when Gale's around 15 or 16...and yes, in my mind the Mellarks just think they're being really cool and clever in giving all their kids misspelled names of different types of bread :P**

**OH! And thanks to everyone who reviewedddddddddd. I promise I will message you all.**

**Also: all parallels in this chapter were absolutely intended and if you'd like me to explain them to you, shoot me a message! (just ignore this if you don't understand what I mean)**

* * *

**The feeling of the cold, wet snow that soaked him to the core and came dangerously close to extinguishing his will to fight.**

"Are you...erm, all right?"

The question must be rhetorical. This vaguely familiar-looking boy must just be trying to be polite. It probably isn't even his fault. The blonde hair would indicate that he's a Town kid. Maybe his parents taught him to always be courteous.

But Gale is starving, cold, and doesn't really give a damn about all that.

"Oh, yeah! I'm fantastic! Great! Wonderful!"

The boy is backing up slowly, inching away from him.

"I was just asking! No need to get so..."

"So _what_?" Gale snaps with more venom in his voice than he'd originally intended. The boy frowns. Clearly he hadn't expected to be met with so much misplaced rage in response to a simple question.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to offend you or anything. You just looked so..."

Gale doesn't even bother to ask what this time. He can fill in the blanks himself. So downtrodden. So upset. So hungry. So dirty. So poor. So utterly and completely hopeless.

"I just..wanted to make sure you weren't going to, I don't know, like..." the boy is rambling now, running his hands through his hair.

Unfortunately, Gale no longer has the time to sit on this curb feeling sorry for himself, and he definitely doesn't have the time to hear this rich kid make a fool of himself.

"Well, thanks for checking in, but really I'm fine. Excellent, in fact."

The boy pauses, noticing Gale backing away. "You sure?" he sounds (and looks, for that matter) extremely doubtful.

"Yep. Everything's fantastic." _You know, apart from it being the middle of winter and all, and absolutely freezing outside, and there being NO wood anywhere in this damn District. _He doesn't say this part aloud, though. Everyone knows that extra wood goes to the highest bidders on the coldest nights. And Gale hadn't had anything to bid.

He should've gotten some from the forest last week, like Katniss had suggested. But instead, like an idiot, he'd suggested that they wait 'til tomorrow. He'd been _tired_. He hadn't wanted to carry firewood along with the game they'd caught. And besides, they definitely had enough firewood stored up to last a while!

Funny how 'a while' turned into four nights when you had to divide it evenly between to families. The snow storm had hit without warning, coating District 12 in three feet of white powder the first night, and had continued for three days on. By the time it was over, the district had practically been buried, and while they were good miners, that said nothing of their ability to dig through frozen water (never let it be said that pickaxes make good shovels).

After five days of being holed up in his house with his mother and siblings, someone had finally gotten around to shoveling out the Seam. But his excitement over getting out of the house had been short-lived once he'd found the shovelers hadn't planned to clear the snow from the area leading to the fence. Why should they? Law-abiding citizens hated going near the ominous fence and the dangerous forest it protected them from.

He had debated with Katniss for hours about whether or not they should try to dig through, but in the end they'd decided it would be too risky. Cray might've been old, but surely even he would notice a large tunnel in an otherwise intact wall of snow.

However, now Gale was thinking the might have to reconsider. Their firewood had lasted them through the storm, but not longer after that. Even the food supply that they had carefully collected and stored in months preceding was running dangerously low. Katniss kept offering him some of her rations, arguing that three mouths to five was much larger a difference then he was pretending, but he refused. Gale Hawthorne would die before he accepted charity. Especially when said charity was coming from someone as impoverished as he.

"I'm sure," he says through his teeth.

The boy looks skeptical, though. "Well, I, uh, I have, uhm..." he trails off and pulls what looks like a small cake out of his bag.

"Take it," he mumbles when Gale doesn't react. "My little brother usually does the frosting, but we've ran out during the storm, and I was supposed to trade some of them for sugar and things to make more, but not too many people are trading now, and my mom-"

"Why would I want _that_?" Gale cuts him off furiously. Instead of being shocked or offended by this outburst, the boy merely shakes his head.

"Not for you! For your brother...I can't remember his name, but the younger one you take into town after school sometimes? I-I always see him stare at the cakes when you guys pass by."

Now Gale is able to place him. Rotee Mellark. The middle son of the town baker. Gale is one year behind him in school, though they both stand in the same area during the Reaping Ceremonies.

"I don't want your extra food," Gale hisses, though his stomach chooses this moment to loudly protest that claim.

"It's not for you, it's for your brother," Rotee says exasperatedly, but Gale can smell a ploy from a mile away.

"My brother doesn't need handouts."

Rotee sighs, shaking his head. "Please take it, Gale."

Something inside him snaps at that. At the fact that Rotee Mellark is literally _begging_ him to take his table scraps. He wonders briefly if he's honestly that pathetic, but dispels the idea as soon as it enters his head. As his dad used to tell him, _no good can come of sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. _Action over idleness.

"Thanks, but no," he tells Rotee for the last time before walking away quickly. He knows he's being rude, knows the boy was only trying to help, but Gale doesn't need help. What he needs is some rope.

After all, just because they can't tunnel through the snow doesn't mean they can't climb over it.


End file.
